


Nobody Said It Was Easy

by billiholic (yndigot)



Series: Nobody Said It Was Easy [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 12:45:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yndigot/pseuds/billiholic
Summary: Dr. Strange brings Steve and Tony a very tiny, very surprising inter-dimensional traveler.





	Nobody Said It Was Easy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eloony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eloony/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Prime (Art for Nobody Said It Was Easy)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899726) by [Eloony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eloony/pseuds/Eloony). 



> Thank you so much to louxisalhama for the [beautiful art](http://louxisalhama.tumblr.com/post/160639601731/surprise-this-is-my-other-entry-for-the-2017) that inspired this fic. And double thank you to her for being patient with me as my family monopolised my attention on posting day!

There was a clang of metal and the hard smack of boots hitting the pavement. He saw the flash of the shield and then he was face to face with Captain America. Strange wasn't the type to get starstruck, but he dared anyone not to feel just a little dazed when Captain America dropped out of the sky in front of them.

Cap stared at him for a moment, startled and confused. "Strange?" he said. "What're you doing here?"

There was nothing as horrifying as the sound of a dimension ripping itself apart before it collapsed. This was the third time Stephen Strange had heard that sound in what, for him, felt like just a single day — the third dimension that had started to rip apart at the seams.

This was the first dimension he'd visited that so closely resembled his own — the first where the old Pan Am building had been replaced with Avengers Tower. And this was the first time in any dimension where he'd been face to face with an Avenger.

That's when he realized that Captain America _knew him_ in this universe. Well, that was, Captain America knew some version of Stephen Strange — the man who was, in this universe, probably also a sorcerer, and just now coming to realise that something had destabilized his universe, who was probably trying at this very moment to stabilize his world and protect his very existence and the existence of everyone and everything he had ever known.

It was too late for that.

 

••••

 

Steve set down his pencil. He wasn't really drawing — doodling at best. Sam said it might be therapeutic to pick up art again. Given what he'd been drawing since they'd started basing themselves out of Birnin Zana, he wasn't so sure about that. The phone call was almost a welcome distraction until he realized that it wasn't his usual phone that was ringing.

It was the burner. The one that only had one number programmed into it. The one whose number had only been given to one person. He picked up and waited, silently, for the person on the other end to speak first.

"How long will it take you to get back to New York?"

Steve was hesitant even to answer this call. He knew it wasn't hard to triangulate a cell signal off the towers — and it would be unfair to T'challa to reveal that he'd been in an out of Wakanda for the past few months. They had an agreement that Steve was welcome to come and go across the border as he pleased, but that came with an understanding that Steve would be discreet and not cause an international incident. And he'd also told Tony that he would answer this phone.

He was about to find out if he could do both.

"That depends," Steve said. His mind immediately started running scenarios. Aliens. Hydra. It had been a while since the States had a home-grown enhanced individual causing large-scale trouble, but maybe they were overdue. "I told you I'd be there if you needed me. Sit rep?"

"Still not a soldier, Cap. And it's ... not that kind of situation. Something's come up. I need to talk to you face to face. I need you physically _here_."

"You're gonna have to give me a little bit more than that, Stark," Steve said.

Tony went quiet on the other end of the line, and then, softly, "I've got an infant asleep in the next room, and DNA tests say that he's your son."

Steve was completely silent.

"Cap?"

"Six hours," he said. He looked at his watch, calculating the time difference between New York and Birnin Zana. "I'll be there before midnight, your time. Keep the landing strip at the compound clear."

 

••••

 

Steve got off the plane, Scott trailing wide-eyed behind him. Clint hopped out to get the plane refuelled. With the help of some old friends, he'd managed to get his family to Birnin Zana with him, and he planned to head back as quickly as he could, but it had been months since Scott had been able to contact his daughter. There weren't any guarantees that he'd be able to see her now, but a trip back into the right country, even if it was the wrong coast, was worth the risk.

Steve and Tony stared at each other for a long moment.

"Do you want to see him?"

Steve nodded.

Tony led them into the compound, to the lounge where they all used to share down time before it all went to hell. Rhodey was sitting in his wheelchair, keeping a wary eye on a man who stood by the window wearing some elaborate costume with a cape.

A bassinet had been scrounged up from somewhere and there was ... a baby. Steve barely acknowledged Rhodey and ignored the man in the cape. He walked up to the bassinet.

The baby's eyes were closed, hands curled in little fists. His mouth was making little sucking movements in his sleep

"I'm not a pediatrician," the man in the cape said, "but I can tell you that he's hitting all the developmental marks for a healthy four month old."

Steve looked up from the baby. Then he looked at Tony with a question clearly written on his face. _Who is he and why is he here?_

Tony rolled his eyes a little and sighed. "This is Dr. Stephen Strange. Strange, Captain Steven Rogers. Cap, Dr. Strange." He waved his hand dismissively between the two of them as if the process of introducing them was tedious.

Strange held out his hand. "We've never met before in this dimension, but I had the pleasure of meeting your counterpart in another world."

"Nice to meet you. Again. I ... think?" Steve's eyes darted from Strange to Tony, still waiting for a fuller explanation.

"Strange is world renowned neurosurgeon," Tony said. "Or, he _was_. Now he does magic tricks."

"I am Sorcerer Supreme," Strange corrected. "A Master of the Mystic Arts. We protect the Earth from inter-dimensional threats."

Steve slowly took Strange in — his face, the cloak, the various implements hanging from the sash around his waist. He squared his shoulders and put his hands on his belt in the way he did when he was trying to look relaxed and imposing at the same time. He had a way of raising a skeptical eyebrow that made Tony want to punch him in the teeth. "So this ... _this_." He didn't seem to be able to reach for the word _child_ or _baby_. "Is this magic?"

Strange glanced over at Tony, but they'd had this conversation already. His comments were directed toward Steve. "If you are asking if the child is some sort of magical illusion, then no. He is a human infant who was born to human parents, the same as any of us. He just had the misfortune to be born in a dimension that has collapsed and disappeared. It might be helpful to think of it as though his parents — his entire dimension — has died, although it would be more precise to say that they have ceased to exist."

"And this other me that you met..." Steve said carefully. "I — he — was this baby's father?"

"I had Friday run his DNA against a sample we had from you. Strange's story checks out — I mean, as much as it possibly could. He's genetically your son, so unless you'd like to call up any women you were sleeping with about thirteen months ago..."

Steve's shoulders tightened up and Tony could see him closing off. "I can promise you that I don't have any kids floating around that I don't know about. Not ones from this dimension, anyway. I have no idea what some other version of me from another dimension got up to, but I know where I've been." He looked at the baby, then back at Strange. "Shouldn't you have tracked down his mother?"

"I started by tracking down his mother," Strange said. "In fact, his mother was much, much easier to find than you were. Famous, for a start. And not a fugitive."

"Famous?"

Strange looked between Tony and Steve. "His mother was an Avenger in her universe — the Iron Avenger, they called her. Natasha Antonia Stark. Your counterpart affectionately referred to his partner as Toni."

For the first time, Steve seemed to be able to pull his eyes away from the baby — in order to stare at Tony in shock. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

Tony shrugged. "The baby and I share mitochondrial DNA, and he's got your Y chromosome. Genetically? You're his father and I'm his mother."

No one said anything for a moment, then, from where he was standing off to the side, Scott said — "Well, that's pretty weird, even for this crowd."

 

••••

 

It had been unsettling to watch Strange leave. He did something fiddly with his fingers, stepped through what looked like a ring of fire, and then was just ... _gone_. It made something in Steve's brain itch — reminded him too much of the portals the Tesseract could open, the one that had sucked the Red Skull away and, worse, the one above New York. It unsettled him to see Strange use that power so casually, but at least it didn't seem like he'd have to see it again any time soon.

Tony and Rhodey took it in stride, presumably because they'd seen him do it before, but Scott's jaw dropped. Steve was just glad Clint was getting some sleep on the plane before flying himself back — anything that reminded him of Loki could make Clint unsettled and twitchy for days.

They'd put Scott in Sam's old room and Rhodey had gone to bed as well, leaving Steve alone with Tony to sort out ... whatever this was.

The baby was starting to wake up, but for the moment, he just seemed to be taking everything in with his wide, blue eyes. Steve's mother had always said he was a quiet baby. It wasn't until he was walking and talking that he was always getting into trouble. "I didn't ask if he had a name," he said. "I mean — I know his parents _gave_ him a name, but whether Strange asked what it was..."

"James," Tony said. "James Ian Rogers. Rhodey is smug, but I'm guessing your counterpart had his own reasons for wanting to name a kid James." He mostly kept the bitterness out of his voice. Bucky was still a sore point.

Steve shook his head. "Strange was trying to explain to me how the multiverse works. I guess I understood what he was saying, I just couldn't quite get my head around the idea of there being another me out there. I understand, it just doesn't seem real."

"Is it weird that there's another you, or weird that Other You had a baby with Other Me?"

"Both? That's ... that's one part I really don't get. If she's a woman, how's she you?"

Tony shrugged. "Biology is ... squidgy. Gender isn't as binary as we sometimes make it out to be. And neither is biological sex, despite what some people will try to tell you. And if biology didn't make it easy ... a billionaire doesn't exactly have a limited budget for fertility treatments. We started with basic paternity and maternity tests, then did a more complete genetic work up after those initial results came back. We had some time to kill while we waited for you to get back. He's definitely related to both of us." Tony reached out and gave James a finger to hold on to. James immediately brought it to his mouth and started to chomp down. Tony winced a little. "Remind me to find out when they start getting teeth."

Steve laughed.

"Listen, _you_ stick a finger in his mouth. Kid's got a bite like toothless alligator..."

"I can tell," Steve said, still grinning. "He's terrifying." He hesitated a moment, then asked, "Did you ever want kids?"

Tony sucked in a deep breath, like he had to brace himself before he answered. "I had a vasectomy in 2005," he said. "So. No. I mean, I spent almost twenty years relying on drunk-me to remember to use a condom, so in the back of my head, I was always prepared for the possibility that someone would show up out of the blue and tell me I had a kid out there somewhere, but I didn't figure it would be quite like this." He shook his head. "Somewhere I still have the business card of an excellent family law attorney — when Pepper was my P.A., she decided I needed that information on hand, just in case."

That was treading on dangerous territory, but Steve couldn't quite help himself. "So, what does Pepper think about all this?"

"She doesn't know," Tony said. His eyes stayed on James, who had now grabbed two more fingers with his other hand.

"You're still on a break?"

"We are on the biggest possible break. We are broken." Tony was trying to keep his voice light and flip, but it wasn't quite working. "We broke up."

"I'm sorry."

"It was bound to happen eventually." He shrugged it off in a way that made it clear that it wasn't as okay as he wanted it to seem. "She could put up with Tony but she really never liked living with Iron Man."

Steve shook his head. "You say it like she was _just_ putting up with you. I don't believe that."

"I never found a way to make her come first. That's what she had to put up with."

"Asking you to give up Iron Man — that's a lot." There were only a few things in the world that would make Steve walk away from Cap. Only one thing in the world, up to this point. Just Bucky, and that was only when he'd been pushed _hard_.

"It is. But she's worth giving up a lot. I just ... wasn't willing to do it." He looked up at Steve like he was expecting judgement, but Steve just looked sad. "I chose that. Over her. It turns out that I'm not good at standing down. When ... when you can do the things that we can do, and you don't, and bad things happen — they happen because of you. Because of people like us."

Steve frowned. "Isn't that what I was trying to tell you about the Accords?"

"A fifteen year old kid told me that." Tony looked chastened as he said it. "And then I think it rattled around in my head for a while. And ... yeah, your preaching might've got to me a bit."

Steve's eyebrows shot up. "A kid tried to lay the guilt trip on you like that? I mean, I think he's right, but that takes guts, going up to Iron Man and saying something like that."

"He was talking about himself, actually," Tony said, bracing himself.

"That's a lot of pressure to take on yourself at fifteen." Steve shook his head. "And whoever that kid is, he's not wielding the kind of power we have."

"He kind of is. You know the kid in the spider onesie?"

"Spider-man? Spider-man is _fifteen_?"

Tony held up his free hand — the alarmed tone in Steve's voice had distracted James from Tony's fingers. He was picking up on the tension around him. "You knew he was young."

"I thought he was at least _legal_."

"At fifteen, I was working on my first masters degree, getting drunk and high on the weekends," Tony said. "And from what I've heard, you were coughing up your own lungs and getting your ass kicked by starting fights all over Brooklyn."

"I was not getting my ass kicked all over Brooklyn." Steve sighed. "Maybe all over Brooklyn Heights."

"My point is that fighting street-level crime in spider pajamas is not the worst thing a fifteen year old could be doing with his life."

Steve exhaled heavily. "We're gonna talk about this before you invite that kid on any more surprise trips to Germany."

"No fighting in front of the baby," Tony said. He pitched it like a joke, but there was a serious, protective undercurrent to what he said that made Steve wonder, not for the first time, what Howard had been like as a father.

"Is that a thing now?" he said. " _Us_ and what we do around _the baby_? Does that mean you're gonna stop taking pot shots at my sex life?"

"I haven't," Tony said. "Lately."

"Oh? So what was 'you wanna call any women you were sleeping with' supposed to be about? You knew where James came from already."

"Okay, that was a cheap shot to get a rise out of you," Tony admitted. "And look, it worked." He brushed back James's hair. James started reaching for his hand again — he'd discovered a favorite toy to chew on, and he wasn't ready to give it up. "I know we're not exactly pals right now, but you had a right to know. What you do now that you know — I'm not trying to push you into anything. I get that you didn't sign up for this. But I figure ... if your genetic material is running around in this universe, you deserve to know about it."

"He's a _baby_ , Tony. Don't put it like that. He's not _genetic material_. He's a person." Tony raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. Steve took a deep breath, and as he inhaled, his whole body slowly tightened. "Strange said he's healthy, right?"

Tony nodded. "Strange is an _ex_ -neurosurgeon, but yeah, he thinks James looks healthy. I'm going to have a real pediatrician check him out tomorrow." He jiggled James's hand. "You're worried that he'll be sick, like you were as a kid, right? It doesn't look like it. We'll need to do more testing to see exactly what he got from Other You in terms of the serum, but he's ... he's alright."

Some of the tension left Steve's shoulders.

"Is that what you need to hear to feel okay leaving him here? He's healthy, Steve. Don't worry."

That hadn't even been where Steve's mind was when he asked, but really — the fact that a child had appeared from another dimension didn't change what was going on in this dimension. It didn't mean he could come home and live openly in the U.S., pushing a baby carriage down the street and buying formula at Duane Reade like the C.I.A. and Interpol didn't have him on their most wanted list. "What happens to him if I leave?"

"He stays with me." And Tony said it like it was just that simple.

"You said you didn't want kids."

"I tried to plan my life so I could avoid them," Tony admitted, "but he needs someone. I'm rich. I'm retired. I mean. Sort of." He'd just said he wasn't willing to give up Iron Man entirely, so 'retired' was a relative term, but he wasn't flinging himself into danger nearly as often as he used to. "I wasn't exactly unprepared for the idea of surprise parenthood. He needs someone."

"You said that already," Steve said softly.

Tony shrugged. "He does. Kids need stability. They need someone who's going to stick around."

Steve looked down at James, who was starting to let go of Tony's hand. He only had one finger now, and was reaching, with his other hand, for his own foot. Steve had to admit, it seemed to be going well so far. He'd thought, at one point, when Tony was first 'retired' and he and Pepper were still together, that maybe this was something Tony wanted. A family. "Are you a 'stick around' kind of guy now?"

"Yeah." Tony took a deep breath, then slowly started nodding. "You know — took me almost fifty years to get there, but yeah, I am.  Hey, everybody's gotta grow up eventually."

Steve nodded, then slowly stood up. It was late, and this was a lot. His body didn't even know what timezone it was in anymore. He caught sight of the clock on the far wall and — Jesus, it was almost four in the morning. He wondered if James was so alert right now because jumping between dimensions was a lot like having jet lag, or if it was just because babies liked to be awake at ungodly hours.

It was hard to tear his eyes away from James, who was enthralled with his own foot, staring at it with an expression that was almost startled. But when he lifted his eyes, he caught Tony watching James and it struck him how rarely he'd seen Tony unguarded like this. Maybe a few times when he'd seen Tony with Pepper or Rhodey — when he'd catch the tail end of a private moment before the public face slid back into place.

"Hey, Tony?" he said. "You'll make a good dad." He didn't wait for Tony to respond before he ducked out of the room.

 

••••

 

For the first twenty-four hours that James was in their universe, Tony had started to think that parenting wasn't nearly as hard as some people made it out to be. Sure, kiddo got a little grumpy when it was time to eat or when he was over-tired, but despite the inter-dimensional jet lag, at one point he'd slept for almost eight hours straight, and he'd taken a nice, long nap after Steve and Tony had split up for the night as well. So that was pretty good.

Day two was off to a rocky start.

Rhodey was nursing a coffee mug and trying not to wince too obviously while Tony held James and tried to quiet him.

"You need Sophie," Scott said.

"Is she a nanny?" Tony said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over James's whine, but the raised voice only upset James more. "Because whatever she's making now, if she can get him to stop crying, I'll double it."

"Sophie's a giraffe," Scott said. He was sitting at the sofa, fiddling with a laptop, drinking his third cup of coffee. The whole 'hanging out at the Avengers' Compound like I belong here' thing was still pretty crazy, but seeing Tony Stark anxiously try to calm a screaming infant made him feel strangely competent. He'd been there. He was in a room with a certified genius, and he was the smart one here.

Rhodey coughed up a bit of his coffee. "Come again?"

"A rubber giraffe," Scott clarified. "He's like four months old, right? He's probably starting to get his teeth — you need Sophie. Kids love to chew on Sophie."

"Friday?" Tony said. "How quickly can we get Sophie the Giraffe delivered?"

"I mean, also he hasn't seen his parents in more than a day," Scott added. "He's just at the age where he starts to understand that his parents will come back every time they leave and ... they haven't come back."

"And they aren't _going_ to come back," Rhodey said. "They don't exist anymore."

Scott shrugged. The first year raising a baby — that was something he knew about. Inter-dimensional travel was new to him, though.

Tony sat down heavily on the sofa next to Scott. "So you're saying we've fucked up his sense of object permanence and he's just going to keep screaming?"

Scott shrugged. "He's four months old. I don't think it's anything that can't be fixed. Once he realizes you're not going to disappear too, it'll probably be fine." He cleared his throat a little and added. "Also — maybe hold him a little less like a bomb that might go off at any moment and a little more like a baby?"

"Have you smelled what comes out his back end?" Tony said. "'Bomb' is not _that_ inappropriate."

"Formula poop is worse than breastmilk poop, but it's only going to get worse when he starts eating solid food," Scott said. He pushed the computer away and held out his hands. "Give him here. It's been a few years, but I still remember how to do this."

Tony was feeling frayed and the crying was making him feel a lot more tired than he ought to be considering he'd actually got a decent amount of sleep. He was more than happy to hand James off for a few minutes.

Scott carried James around the room, gently bouncing him as they walked. It didn't really get him quiet, but it was better than Tony had been doing. Tony melted into the sofa and rolled his eyes when he caught the _look_ Rhodey was giving him.

"They're only incontinent and screaming for the first few years," he said. "I do okay with older kids." Okay, he'd never exactly been fatherhood material, but he'd had a friendly mentorship sort of relationship with Harley for the past few years, and they'd done alright. It didn't hurt that Harley was smart as a whip and already used to prickly adults, but it worked for them. And he'd stumbled through Peter's superhero-related growing pains and fuck ups without traumatizing the kid for life. He could make this work too.

Steve had headed out on a run to clear his head right after he woke up, and when he finally came back, thirty miles later, James was still fussing in Scott's arms, and Tony looked tired and frustrated. Steve looked from James to Tony and then back again before asking Scott, "Is he okay?"

Scott grinned. "Which one?" Then he shook his head. "Yeah, half-pint here is alright. He's just confused."

Steve slowly walked up to them and James started to quiet down when he got closer. For a moment, Scott looked surprised, but then he held James out to Steve.

"Take him."

Steve hadn't held a baby since the USO tour in 1942. Even then, he'd been uncomfortable with it. He remembered holding one of Bucky's little sisters when they were still kids and Bucky's mom chuckling over his discomfort and insisting that he ought to get used to it because one day he'd get married and end up with a few of his own. Steve had never been as sure as she was that things would shake out for him that way, but he'd held little Ruth until he found an excuse to hand her off.

It felt weird holding James. The first thing he thought was _I stink, I need a shower_ , but James didn't seem to mind. And suddenly he was much, much calmer than he'd been before. He reached up and touched Steve's face, putting his open palm over Steve's nose.

"Cap was his dad in another universe, right?" Scott said. "I think he recognizes you."

Steve glanced over at Tony, who was watching them. It was hard for Steve to read the expression on his face. It seemed somehow unfair that Tony had stepped right in to play dad, but Steve, bewildered as he still was by the whole situation, already seemed to be occupying that space.

He met Tony's eyes and held them. Tony had seemed so convinced last night that Steve would move on now that he knew James was here. Honestly, Steve was a wanted criminal in multiple countries, including his own, and he had made the same assumption. It wasn't as though he'd chosen this. He was glad he knew, but he wasn't in any position to be a parent right now. He'd thought it would be for the best if he just went back to Birnin Zana — went back to what he'd been doing before James showed up and maybe ... asked for a few pictures now and then. Hope that he and Tony stayed on kind enough terms that he could ask how James was doing every few months.

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a burning ring of light. Strange stepped into the room, closed his portal, and then looked around at them all as though he hadn't just broken into a heavily fortified compound. It was Vision and his trouble with walls and privacy all over again, only worse — because who the hell did this guy think he was?

His cape adjusted itself, resettling on his shoulders and floating lightly behind him. "I see that James is doing well," he said.

Tony stood up from the couch and narrowed his eyes. "He's fine. We are literally superheroes — did you think we couldn't handle a baby for more than a day?"

Strange looked surprised, and maybe a bit amused. "I'm sure that most adults with a healthy handle on Google could keep infant alive and well for a few days if they needed to. I'm here to tell you that you _don't_ need to."

Tony clearly had very limited patience for Strange, and Steve would have found the look of exasperation on Tony's face pretty funny if he hadn't been preoccupied trying to figure out where Strange was going.

Strange seemed to pick up on Tony's general impatience and elaborated. "I spent the night exploring the multiverse for near-matches to the universe the baby came from and found another dimension where his parents are together. Your counterparts have been married for a number of years and have already adopted a son and a daughter — they would be happy to take on James as well."

Steve found himself shaking his head. "That won't be necessary," he said. "We've got it covered."

He looked over at Tony, who seemed surprised, but was nodding along with him. "I already ordered Sophie the Giraffe," he said, shrugging. "I think we're set."

Strange looked amused and not _quite_ as surprised as he ought to be. Nowhere near as surprised as Scott and Rhodey.

"Well, then," he said, nodding to them. He set a business card on the coffee table. "If you have further need of me, I'll be ... around."  He opened a portal and disappeared.

Tony huffed. "Not likely." He picked up the business card and huffed again. " _Dr. Stephen Strange, Sanctum Sanctorum, New York_. I'll bet that's real helpful when you try to find it on a map." The address _177A Bleecker Street_ slowly materialised across the bottom of the card, and Tony threw it down. "I hate magic."

**Author's Note:**

> For those who are not familiar, [here is Sophie the Giraffe](https://www.sophiethegiraffe-usa.com/).


End file.
